Bandits are the carrion creatures of humanity; the vultures, the hyenas, the crows. They live just at the fringes of the civilised world, just beyond the reach of authority, yet near enough to peck away at civilisation. They target the poor, the weak, the young, the old, the weary, and the vulnerable. They are, by their very nature, cowards and bullies. They eke out a living by being parasites on those that better than they are, whether financially better off or with greater dignity and moral compass. Yet, as pathetic as a Bandit may be, he is still a force to be reckoned with; for, as with all bullies and cowards,

Even before his death and beatification, St Lambert was a famously pious and devoted friar. Working miracles for the poor and needy, St Lambert travelled wherever the divine sent him, no matter how dangerous the path ahead was. He walked through war zones, monster lairs, plague fields and wastelands, yet nothing ever left a scratch on him. He piety had been rewarded with divine protection. His faith truly was his shield, and when he passed peacefully at long last, his saintly relics inherited his gifts. His ring was the first relic stolen from the holy reliquary, and yet this crime has resulted in much good being done in the world. Protecting

Scholars of the mystic arts agree on few things, but one agreement is that the aether is the ocean on which all worlds drift like forlorn boats. A radical few suggest that the aether itself is yet another ship set adrift in a much deeper, darker, more frightful ocean. This nether-aether, as they call it, is a place no mortal mind can comprehend. Just as the aether is a place only a fool and madman can understand, so can the nether-aether only be grasped by those who are to the insane as the mad are to us. The greatest proof that these radicals have of their nether-aether is the shards of

Scholars have often debated whether there is indeed a god of love, or whether we have merely personified and anthropomorphised the concept of love. And if even if there is a god of love, what love is he (or she) a god of? Sexual love? Romantic love? Platonic love? Familial love? All encompassing, unconditional love? Love simply raises far too many questions for a god to satisfactorily answer. In fact, love as a concept raises more than enough questions for some scholars to claim that it simply doesn’t exist. Those who have seen Love’s Arrows in action know that all of the above is a load of old rubbish. Love is